Tale As Old As Time
by snowisfalling
Summary: Dramione. Hermione is roped into a work assignment that leads to an unexpected run in with the ex-Slytherin Prince. Forced to co-inhabit tensions run high and feelings are stretched to the limit. Could something blossom before the 6 months he has to prove himself run out? Loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.


**I'm back guys! After many long months of writers block, inspiration has come down from the heavens and struck me. That and the need for blackmail ammo over my best friend ;) Hope you enjoy this first chapter and I apologise now for the use of British slang- can't really help it! I'm a good old northern lass.. Leave me your thoughts! **

**Much love, Snowisfalling. x**

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She couldn't believe he'd forced her to come here, of all the old Wizarding families he'd just had to pick the one she had... history with. After 5 years of hard slog at the archives you would have thought that her opinion had some clout, but oh no. Stupid Mr Edgecombe with his uppity, sexist views. Women should follow orders, they shouldn't be working in archives in the first place! All that priceless knowledge in the hands of a women? Disgraceful!

Smoothing down her robes she took a deep breath, she could do this. She was Hermione freaking Granger- war herione! Since the war 6 years ago she'd kept a low profile granted, and especially after the breakup. Who would have though that Ron would go on to be such a desirable catch, it angered her to think of who he'd left her for. Lavender Brown. School slut. If anyone was in it for the money, it was most definitely her. Really she'd done Hermione a favour, it wasn't just Ron getting bored, she'd harboured fewer romantic feelings for him after the war came to a close and over the years the spark flickered and was eventually extinguished. Still though, it was a matter of principle; how dare he believe she was stupid enough not to notice? All the late quidditch practices and team nights out, she was most certainly not born yesterday! Smiling she remembered how Ginny reacted- do not piss off a 7 month pregnant witch, lets just say her bat bogey hex made a startling come back. She wouldn't have stopped if it Harry hadn't have intervened, just about managing to rein his wife in.

Flicking back to the present she focused on the task in hand. After seeing so much sorrow and death in the war all Hermione wanted to do was forget, she couldn't follow Ron and Harry into the Auror profession no matter how many peple tried to convince her otherwise. Instead she retreated into the things that had always provided her comfort- books. So for the last 5 years she had slaved away under the watchful eye of Harold Edgecombe, a man well into his seventies with decidely old fashioned views. He refused to believe that a young lady such as Hermione could be trusted to do what he saw as a man's work- something that infuriated her to no end. It was bearable though, just for the pleasure of pouring over old tomes and scrolls, absorbing the knowledge of those who came before her and lovingly restoring the ones that needed that extra bit of care. Recently a new project had been announced, in order to bring together the varied knowledge of the original wizarding families each employee was to be assigned a pure blood family. They would would then have the task of scouring the age old libraries for any interesting and informative books that needed documenting or restoring. She couldn't believe her luck, that is until she found out where she was going.

No amount of begging or pleading could change Mr Edgecombe's mind and now here she was. Malfoy Manor. She was just thankful that it was now unoccupied, what with Lucius in Azkaban, Narcissa dead and Draco disappearing (probably sunning himself on some island the spineless prat) she had the full run of the place. More than she could say about her friend Hannah, she'd ended up living with the Parkinsons for 6 months- not a experience Hermione would wish on anyone! It brought back painful memories though, the last time she'd set foot in these grounds it had quite literally scarred her for life. That horrible word had been magically carved into her arm and despite the best efforts of the healers it could not be removed. Bellatrix's parting blow. She hadn't worn a short sleeve since, preferring to hide the reminder of a time best forgotten.

Enough reminiscing she thought, the clouds that had gathered some hours before were now emitting threatening rumbling sounds and the first drops of rain were beginning to fall. Levitating her trunk she took a step forward and pushed open the gates, trying to forget the creepy squeaking noise that followed. Pulling her cloak around her she rushed up the drive, the heavens had well and truly opened and she was quickly soaked to the bone. Curse the Malfoys for being so pretentious and having a mile long driveway! Skidding to a halt she surveyed the front of the building. It had definitely fallen into disrepair, crumbling stonework and dirty windows could be seen through the sprawling vines of ivy. Drawing herself up to her full height and wiping the soggy mess of hair out of her eyes she decided not to bother with the bronze serpent knocker deciding instead to lean against the oak paneled doorway. Surprisingly it gave way instantly under her weight and she toppled into the entrance hall landing flat on her back.

She couldn't see a thing, her mane of hair had somehow managed to stick to her face and was obscuring her vision. With great difficulty she pried the strands apart and managed to shove them into some form of order, lost in the monumental task she didn't notice her visitor until the last moment. Feeling a timid tap on her shoulder she leaped into a fighting stance, only to be faced by a clean, plump looking house elf.

'Miss should not be here.' he said, hurriedly looking over his shoulder.

'I have full permission to be here, I have some papers if you'd care to look, I wasn't aware anyone was currently residing in the Manor?' she was confused. Why would the house elves have stayed on if their masters had left?

'Oh no, Tinky is not alone. Maggy lives here. The Master too. But Miss must go now.' the elf was become more and more agitated and had began to tug on her sleeve, leading her towards the doorway.

She gently extracted herself from his hold, 'I'm sorry but I cannot leave. Maybe if I could just speak to your Master I'm sure he'd be willing to let me stay.'

It wasn't uncommon for squatters to break into the old homes after the war and nobody had probably thought to check Mmalfoy Manor, most witches and wizards steered well clear. It was odd for a squatter to have house elves but she had fond memories that reminded her of the immense loyalty these little creatures could show.

The sound of footsteps echoed on the marble floors behind her and the look of pure horror on Tinky's face almost stopped her from turning around. She was just about to high tail it back to the archives when a familiar cough stopped her. A cough of breeding and arrogance, not a cough she had ever hoped to hear again. Slowly turning she was met by a pair of cold and calculating grey eyes. That however was were the similarities stopped. The platinum hair was cut short and was absent of the usual slime, his skin was deathly pale and sallow, huge black bags under his eyes. The lean quidditch muscle had deteriorated and he looked lucky to be standing on his feet he was that thin, swamped by an ill fitting shirt and trousers. The years had certainly not been kind to Draco Malfoy.

'When you've finished gawping Granger Tinky will show you to the dining room. We're in need of a little chat.'

With a trademark sneer he turned on his heel and stalked out. She barely had chance to pick her chin up of the floor before Tinky started hurrying her alone. This was not supposed to happen, she had been assured the house was empty! That was the only reason hadn't resigned on the spot! So help Harold Edgecombe when she got her hands on him he would seriously regret this decison. She could guarantee it.

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